No doubt the psychologists will, one day, describe in detail why one young person will take up what was once called the French Horn – no doubt because of this country’s proximity to Calais, which of course we used to own – over another instrument, like the bassoon or the saxophone. It is now simply called ‘The Horn’. I say ‘young people’ but it has often been known to appeal to the older generation. There must be a myriad of ordinary reasons, like a horn being needed in the school orchestra, the lovely-looking shape, especially when lacquered, that appeals to one’s senses. Or for some people, when they have tried and failed a few times to get more than a poorly reared raspberry from the tubing, the mental challenge of coming to grips with the assembly of tubing, which when spotted by a plumber would rub his – or of course, her – hands in glee. Such types will not be beaten.
Of course, the real reason for electing to learn how to master the horn is obvious to anyone sensitive enough to appreciate its tones in the orchestra. Quite clearly it is not only the warm and mellifluous nature of the sound but also the contrasting excitement one feels when experiencing for the first time the hairs sanding up on the back of one’s neck, on encountering for the first time Ron Goodwin’s score for the film 633 Squadron. Ron Goodwin started life as a copyist, then became an arranger and finally a wonderful composer as well as being an accomplished conductor. He was a generous man and extremely humorous, being master of the shaggy dog story. I was privileged to hear him tell one of his best jokes, just before he sadly died, aged 77.
